Chapter 10

Clara couldn’t sleep. She’d barely closed her eyes all night, even though the bed was like something out of a dream. The silk sheets were soft and warm against her skin, the mattress so plush it hugged her tired body. The fireplace crackled quietly in the corner, sending a cozy glow across the room. It was everything she’d wanted when she was shivering on that awful couch, cold and miserable. This should’ve been perfect—should’ve knocked her right out after the long, terrible day she’d had. But it wasn’t the bed keeping her awake. It was him. Dante.